


Tears of the Eldar

by Leigh Jackwood (Leigh_Jackwood)



Series: All That Glitters [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Balrogs, Dragons, Epic, Family, Fighting, Gen, Gondolin, Retelling, Silmarillion - Freeform, Wars, silmarillion from Glorfindel's pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:45:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1457995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leigh_Jackwood/pseuds/Leigh%20Jackwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glorfindel followed Turgon to Middle Earth and with him braved all grief and battle. His friendships with Artanis, Ecthelion and Erestor created the foundations on which great deeds would be done. From the Flight of the Noldor to the Fall of Gondolin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tears of the Eldar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon the hill, the Noldor swear their oaths and begin their rebellion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For genealogies, see Birth of Angels Chapter One. http://archiveofourown.org/works/3130532/chapters/6784928  
> The names are in Quenya:  
> Laurefindil- Glorfindel  
> Fëanáro- Fëanor  
> Artanis- Galadriel  
> Findaráto- Finrod  
> Ñolofinwë- Fingolfin  
> Turukáno- Turgon  
> Curufinwë- Curufin  
> Arafinwë- Finarfin  
> Findekáno- Fingon  
> Arakáno- Argon

**Tears of the Eldar**

 

**Part One: The Flight of the Noldor**

**_Chapter One- Oaths and Promises_**

 

 

 

He was speaking again, Laurefindil noted, and all were listening. He had not stopped, this bright figure upon the hill. All around him the others watched, enraptured by the figure's words. Laurefindil looked instead at his father who stared unblinking at the elf on the hill. His uncle stood there too, closer as was his right.

 

 

 

Fëanáro kept speaking, although Laurefindil wished he would stop. The words made him uneasy, this talk of betrayal. Of leaving. Yet it was how true they sounded that worried him the most. He did not want to accept that Fëanáro’s words were right, he did not want to accept that they were prisoners.

 

 

 

"There they lie still and await us who in our folly forsook them." Fëanáro shouted. Laurefindil could not remember a time before Aman, when his people still dwelt beyond the sea. He had been born in Valinor, as had his parents and all of his close kin. He knew nothing else, the lands which Fëanáro spoke of were alien to him. "Come away! Let the cowards keep this city!" Laurefindil turned to look around him again, spying another golden head among the dark Noldor.

 

 

 

"Artanis," he whispered as he ran to her. They were of an age, both too young to know of this Middle Earth Fëanáro spoke of. She however was watching her half-uncle with avid interest. "He means to make us leave," Laurefindil murmured.

 

 

 

"Hush, he is right, we are kept here. Be silent, Laure." She took his arm and held a finger up to silence him. Laurefindil turned from her, more worried than before. He did not think they would be held against their will, not by the Wise. "Think of it, Laure. Lands, realms when there is no space here. Why should you be of no consequence when your uncle is a Prince? We used to play at ruling, when we were children. Do you not wish to carve out your own name in new lands?"

 

 

 

"No," he said sourly, looking up at Fëanáro. "This is wrong, this has to be wrong." Again she bade him be silent so that she could listen.

 

 

 

"Aye, wrong it is," said her brother Findaráto who stood beside them. "And foul are his words. Do not heed him, Laure, nor my sister." Artanis sent him a withering glare but was silent and they listened, Laurefindil drawing closer to Findaráto as Fëanáro’s words put fear into his heart.

 

 

 

"Fair shall be the end, though long and hard shall be the road!" Fëanáro cried. Laurefindil turned to Findaráto who shared his look of dismay.

 

 

 

"They shall go," Findaráto told him. "Look at them, they shall go." Laurefindil made to reply but Fëanáro fell silent and there was not a sound upon the hill for a moment. Ominous in their silence the Noldor waited.

 

 

 

Then Fëanáro swore an oath and the silence was turned from anticipation to shock. Laurefindil watched, aghast as the seven Princes, the sons of Fëanáro took out their swords and swore as well. No being, be they Valar, elf or any other creature would stop the eight that stood upon the hill in their quest. The other elves shrank back at the names Fëanáro called to witness his oath. Names invoked only in holy rituals, never in anger on a quest for vengeance. Laurefindil shuddered and it seemed as if a shiver ran through the earth beneath them. What was said could not be undone. Fëanáro reached out to something beyond the realms of the Eldar to bind him to his hunt for the jewels.

 

 

 

"This will never leave them, to the ends of the Earth and beyond, they shall know no rest until they have those jewels, and they drag us with them into this abyss." Findaráto had turned away, moving through the crowds towards his father. Artanis took Laurefindil’s hand and they pushed after him. The ground was not quite firm beneath them, as if it too was quaking at the words said on the hill.

 

 

 

"You do not know what you have done, brother!" Ñolofinwë cried to Fëanáro. Behind him came his brother Arafinwë and with them their sons Findaráto and Turukáno. Still Artanis had a hold of Laurefindil's hand and she pulled him forwards to stand with her father and brothers. He could not see his own parents, but his uncle Turukáno stood there with them, allaying his fears a little.

 

 

 

"There again is the betrayal that is so readily in your mind!" replied Fëanáro. "I mean to take back what is mine and lead my people out of this bondage."

 

 

 

"Lead them into darkness and misery. You claim to wish to free us of bondage yet you chain yourself with your oath!" Ñolofinwë lay his hand over his scabbard with a deliberately overt gesture.

 

 

 

"That you are too craven to take to win back our treasures and to avenge our father!" The two brothers moved in circles, their children watching anxiously from beside them.

 

 

 

"It is madness to take such an oath," Turukáno called out. Laurefindil would have gone to him but Artanis held him tightly and so he stayed put, as he always did, a good little friend and playmate.

 

 

 

"You dare call your King mad?" Curufinwë shot back with his brothers shouting back at Turukáno. Suddenly they all had their hands on their swords, Curufinwë had unsheathed his and seemed ready to strike his cousin.

 

 

 

“He is not my king,” Turukáno spat back. At that Curufinwë darted forward and it was only the figure that stepped between them which stopped his blow landing on Turukáno. Even Artanis dropped his hand to grip her blade and Laurefindil stepped forwards with her to take up his place behind his uncle. As if fists would help in the coming fight.

 

 

 

"Please, calm yourselves," came Arafinwë’s soft voice. Gently he held each cousin at arm’s length and they backed down. "Brothers, be not hasty lest we do things that cannot be undone." Slowly the weapons were put away, with great reluctance on the most part.

 

 

 

"Their oath cannot be undone," Ñolofinwë told his brother. "Fëanáro seeks to lead our people forth and pays no heed to the consequences. Your oath is sacrilege! Treason against the Valar! It will not be permitted. Have you no thought of what you will bring upon the people you claim to lead?”

 

 

“You would keep them here to rot in chains and live in servitude!” It seemed as if Fëanáro and Ñolofinwë would draw swords, as they had done in their father’s hall.

 

 

“Cease this. Your anger will not solve anything. Quarrelling is of no use to you. Brothers-“

 

 

“Father, you did not hear.” Findaráto stepped forward, his face ashen. “It was not the Elder King upon the Mountain they took as a witness, nor any of the Valar. They invoked the name of Illúvatar.” Arafinwë fell silent, staring at Findaráto in horror. “They cannot go back.”

 

 

“What have you done?” Arafinwë recoiled from his brothers.

 

 

“It is no more than a token of my intent,” answered Fëanáro. “I will reclaim my treasures and avenge my father’s death. Quake at my words if you will, you are the least of my concerns.”

 

 

Laurefindil watched silently as they argued, the crowds around them debating among themselves. He said nothing, for by rights he should not have been with the princes but with his father down below since he had no noble Noldo blood. He wished he could slip away from the argument he had no say in. The crowd hemmed him in too close and some part of him believed it might yet come to blows. Although he had come from his cousin’s house into the street unarmed he was prepared to stand fast with his uncle. Had they asked he would have sided with Ñolofinwë, he did not want to believe that the great Valar would keep them there for their own purposes. It seemed to drag on, Arafinwë barely keeping his brothers, nephews and children from striking each other.

 

 

 

"Let us be away, father!" Artanis said at last, echoed by Findekáno. Laurefindil backed away as soon as they began to move about, shrinking back so that no one could think he had a part in what was happening.

 

 

 

"It is folly," Ñolofinwë murmured. "Yet you have swayed the others. Sway our people and I shall come, for I will not let them go alone, not with you." He turned then on his heel without so much as a nod to the brother who claimed to be his king, beckoning Turukáno and Findaráto with him. His other children stayed put, answering to themselves only with no heed paid to duty. Turukáno nodded sharply to Laurefindil who scurried to him as they left the hill, without another look at Artanis. "I will return home," Ñolofinwë said to them. "I cannot bear to hear what else is said here. Come to me when our people have decided their fate and we shall go whither they will." The three younger elves were left alone in the street as Ñolofinwë walked off, his dark head disappearing into the shadows between the torches.

 

 

 

"Laurefindil?" Turukáno asked him gently and he looked at his uncle. "What say you to this?"

 

 

 

"It is evil's doing," replied Laurefindil and glanced back at the hill. "Do you mean to go, my Lords?"

 

 

 

"We shall see. Go, find my wife and her sister, I would be glad to know that all of you are safely with my father." Dismissed, Laurefindil ran down to where he had left his parents. He stopped in his tracks as he heard them arguing with another elf.

 

 

 

"Laurefindil." His father glared at him, un-amused. "You were on the hill top, what is to be decided?"

 

 

 

"I was bid fetch you and my Lady Aunt to Prince Ñolofinwë," he answered. "It would appear that-" Fëanáro’s voice rose once again from the hill and his father looked away.

 

 

 

"Let us be gone at once! To seek out these new lands and treasures and to win back our freedom and our most beautiful work!" A cheer went up at that and Laurefindil saw Arafinwë protest to his brother. "Nay, let us be gone!" Then the crowds were moving away, rushing to their homes to gather what Fëanáro was telling them to take.

 

 

 

"Come, father," Laurefindil begged. "Let us join the Prince, please?"

 

 

 

"We are leaving," said his mother proudly, looking more of a Noldo than a Vanya. "And we shall not heed the likes of them once we arrive." For a moment she stared at him and seemed on the verge of saying more.

 

 

 

“Brother!” Laurefindil found himself engulfed in cousins, dark heads pushing past him as his father’s siblings and their children appeared.

 

 

 

“Return home, all of you and make your preparations. Our colours will march behind those of the sons of Finwë,” said his father proudly. “Laurefindil, where are you going?” He had been trying to sneak away and find Elenwë to fulfil what Turukáno had asked of him.

 

 

 

“Let the boy go and keep the other children out of the way.” Laurefindil gave Ahanion, his father’s brother a dull glare. It lacked menace and came out as more of a pout. He was not a child, if only his uncle could remember that and cease treating him like one.

 

 

 

“With your leave,” Laurefindil answered loudly, raising his head high as if he had not just been reduced to a nursery maid. His father took no notice, already walking away.

 

 

 

“I- I cannot see this ending well,” his cousin sighed, pausing a moment to take pity on him. “Laure?”

 

 

 

“Do we have a choice?”

 

 

 

“No, the likes of you and me never do.” She pushed back her hair, watching as their family descended into chaos. Laurefindil’s father and Ahanion walked away, heads close together. Behind them their other siblings argued vocally.

 

 

 

“I must find Elenwë and my siblings,” Laurefindil said softly. At least with his aunt he would not be berated for anything. “I will fetch your brother as well. Keep yourself safe, Fanyarë.” She waved him goodbye before striding after her mother.

 

 

 

On the far side of the hill, through streets packed with people shouting, calling to one another and packing supplies, Laurefindil came to his aunt’s house. A handsome villa surrounded by apple trees and beds of cornflowers it was a thousand times more welcoming than his own home.

 

 

 

“Laurefindil!” The shutters were all closed, behind them the darkness of drawn curtains and only a side door onto the garden where a servant stood was open. “Come inside."

 

"Someone at last!" Elenwë cried from within the house. She rushed to him. All about him the others wore swords at their hips.

 

"Tell me what is happening.” He was ushered into the cloakroom and looked over for signs of injury. He was becoming used to seeing her so distressed since the murder of Finwë and the darkness that swept across the land. He was not so accustomed to liveried servants carrying weapons in her house.

 

 

 

“Fëanáro means to lead our people across the sea,” he began softly. Somehow he could not bring himself to speak in more than a whisper in case it made the words true. “He wishes to seek out the Enemy in Middle-Earth and reclaim the Silmarils.” Elenwë looked away, biting her lip instead of replying.

 

 

The full implications of what Fëanáro had sworn on the hilltop began to dawn on Laurefindil. An unbreakable oath had been made for a quest that seemed to him impossible to accomplish. Worse still, Fëanáro had incited those listening to see the Valar as their gaolers. His stomach quivered a little as he thought about it. So much had happened, darkness came so swiftly it drowned them all and he could not tell if Fëanáro spoke from good intentions or if some shadow laced his words.

 

 

"There is evil in this," Elenwë sighed. "But perhaps also hope. The wounds of the Noldor will not heal here unless great change is undertaken. That cannot happen whilst the sons of Finwë quarrel so. Perhaps this new land will mend the rifts between our princes." Laurefindil could not find himself to share his aunt's hope after having seen the anger between brothers on the hilltop.

 

 

"My parents mean to follow."

 

 

"Yes, Arenwë would do that. My sister is never satisfied. The eldest child cannot often stand to bow to the youngest." Whilst her sister married a prince, Laurefindil's mother had wed a mere captain and even love had not sated her ambitions.

 

 

All at once the street burst into a commotion. Shouts, louder than before and the noise of carts and goods being toppled made the two elves inside flinch. Elenwë pushed her nephew towards the inner door, a blade in her hands. The others had run to either side of the front door in readiness.

 

 

"Go. Itarildë has your siblings in her chambers. It is safer upstairs." Steadfast he refused to leave her. "Laurefindil, go!"

 

 

"I promised to fetch my cousin, he is alone in our house." Elenwë would not have thought to secure the whereabouts of his father's family as well.

 

 

"You will wait until Turukáno returns, or else this riot ceases."

 

 

“I made a promise to find him and make sure he is safe!” Elenwë took him roughly by the shoulder and pushed him towards the stairs. Laurefindil shrank back, raising an arm over his head. At once his aunt’s face softened.

 

 

“Forgive me, little one. We are all on edge. I will go and fetch your cousin and bring him here.”

 

 

Someone began to hammer on the front door and Laurefindil found himself again pushed aside as Elenwë hurried into the hallway.

 

 

"Arakáno!" Through the glazed upper door a familiar figure could be seen. Still wary and armed, Elenwë opened the door to her good-brother.

 

 

"Turukáno sent me," the young lord said, his hands clearly out in front of him to prove he held no weapon. Once inside he quickly shut the door. "Our cousins quarrel, their servants follow suit. It is no time to be abroad. My brother fears for my safety." There was some humour there, as if Arakáno had reason to be afraid of anyone.

 

 

"If he could he would send your father home to the safety of a hidden attic as well," answered Elenwë with a relieved smile. She turned to the staircase. "Come, the children are upstairs. It is no small feat to keep two elflings occupied when so much is happening. Laurefindil, I shall go now to fetch your cousin. All of Turukáno's following will meet here soon I expect."

 

 

"If there are not blood feuds between all kin before then," Arakáno murmured darkly.


End file.
